fi rsthand wisdom that he
wouldn’t notice the chill in
my daughter’s voice; the
cool reception from my
granddaughter.
No, the best way to
communicate with your
children and grandchildren
is to listen when they
do talk, say little and
occasionally fork over some
dough. And just love them,
despite the oft heard silence
on their end.
Ditching the Man
My old friend John called
the other day to report on
his recent retirement.
“It’s good. But I don’t like
to let the day go by without
accomplishing something,”
he said.
I get that. When I retired
several years ago, I didn’t
plan on sleeping in or
taking naps in the afternoon.
Well, maybe taking a nap
occasionally. I was moving
on to something else, I told
myself.
I began by writing
children’s books, then
a novel and now I’m
blogging while l wait for
inspiration for novel 3. I
also volunteered, went to
exercise class and worked
on improving my health.
No more sitting at a desk all
day. But that wasn’t the best
part.
When my friend
shared his long list of
daily accomplishments, I
responded: “You haven’t
touched on my favorite
thing about being retired?”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You don’t have the
answer to the man
anymore,” I responded.
No boss telling you to
do this when you think it
would be better to do that.
No boss telling you she
needs a project done this
weekend when you were
planning on a family outing.
No burning the midnight oil
for someone else’s agenda.
No more asking yourself if
the person you report to has
incriminating photos of his
boss, which is surely how he
got to be in charge of you.
“It’s all about you and isn’t
that great?!”
My friend had to concede
I was right. The best thing
about retirement is being
your own boss.
The former CEO at the
company where I worked
used to say that the biggest
job dissatisfi er was a “toxic
boss.” Not money or one’s
position, but a bad boss.
He was a good boss and
correct about the kind of
people who make going to
work every day a drudge.
I had a couple of great
bosses at that company.
And then there was the one
that drove me and others
crazy. He was likeable, but
he took several hours for
lunch, was always too busy
to talk and only cared about
projects that made him look
good.
When I decided to “retire”
and become a contract
worker for the company,
I shared my lack of
enthusiasm for him with a
few senior leaders.
“I’m sure you’re
misjudging him. We think
he’s great,” they responded.
Well, that’s because they
didn’t report to him.
When he retired, he
ditched his wife of many
years and married a much
younger woman. I think
I was the only one who
wasn’t surprised.
I have to say that I wasn’t
the best boss myself. I’d
been a reporter for 30 years
before I joined corporate
America. I was used to
answering to myself and
whatever assistant city
editor I could reach during a
busy news day.
When I had people
reporting to me, I struggled.
I wanted to be their friend.
I wanted to help them
succeed. I didn’t want
to micromanage them. I
expected them to be as
motivated as I was. I was
right about 50 percent of
the time.
The times I was wrong
were nightmarish. One
person who worked for
me was always fi ling
grievances against the
people she worked with.
Another verbally attacked
a co-worker, causing such a
raucous that I had to come
back early from my vacation
– and, worst of all, give away
front row seats to a Sting
concert.
The fi rst time I had to fi re
someone I suffered great
angst. After he left, we
discovered he’d created a
slush fund in his department
March/April • 2021 • GASPARILLA MAGAZINE 77